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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29983359">Safe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAndie/pseuds/MissAndie'>MissAndie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher and Mandy Milkovich are Best Friends, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Confessions, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Multi, Protective Mickey Milkovich, References to Drugs, References to Sex, Sex Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:40:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29983359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAndie/pseuds/MissAndie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After continuous abuse at the hands of both his boss and his customers, Ian needs to get out of the Boystown club he's currently working in. Mandy convinces Mickey to be his pimp.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher &amp; Mandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want me to do <em>what</em>?” Mickey Milkovich stares at his sister, eyebrows raised. She folds her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed as she glares at him.</p><p>“You heard me,” she says. Mickey shakes his head in disbelief, glancing around to make sure none of the girls heard Mandy’s request. Thankfully, they are all still occupied in their rooms.</p><p>“Fuck off,” he snaps, turning away from her to head back into his office.</p><p>“Don’t be such a dick,” Mandy retorts, following him. “I already know you have an opening.” Mickey glares at her.</p><p>“Who the fuck told you?” Mandy shrugs.</p><p>“Svet told me you let Viktoria go.”</p><p>“Fuckin’ gossips.” He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. “I don’t got no space for twinks.”</p><p>“He’s not a twink.”</p><p>“That’s exactly what he is, especially now that he’s working in fuckin’ Boystown.” Mandy sighs.</p><p>“He’ll be a fucking goldmine for you,” she says. “Do you know how much money he makes from those rich scumbags at the bar?” Mickey is quiet for several moments as he smokes.</p><p>“I don’t have the client base for him,” he finally says, a last-ditch attempt to get out of this conversation.</p><p>“Believe me, that won’t be an issue.” Mickey sighs, chewing his lip, and Mandy knows she’s won.</p><p>“Bring him by tomorrow. This is not a done fuckin’ deal,” he adds firmly. “Not until I’ve talked to him myself.”</p><p>He sits down at his desk and starts shuffling some papers around, effectively dismissing Mandy. With a huff, she leaves the room, and Mickey drops the paperwork. He takes another long drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray on his desk, his hand shaking.</p><p>*</p><p> Ian Gallagher lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to process what Mandy was saying.</p><p>“… he’s a prick but Svet says he’s a decent pimp, doesn’t take any shit from the clients, and at least this way you can set your own boundaries.” He turns his head to look at her, sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against his bed.</p><p>“You want me to work in your brothers whorehouse?” Mandy shrugs.</p><p>“It’s better than where you are now,” she says. “Like I said, Mickey’s a good boss. He won’t treat you badly.” Ian sighs, returning his gaze to the ceiling above him. “Will you at least talk to him? You’ve got to get out of that fucking club.”</p><p>“Calm your shit! I’ll talk to him.” His stomach is already churning at the thought, but Mandy’s right: he needs to get out of the situation he is currently in. Sensing his unease, Mandy reaches over and takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.</p><p>“I’ll come with you.” Ian squeezes back.</p><p>*</p><p>Mandy leads Ian through the back door of The Alibi Room and up the back stairs to the apartment above. Following her through the door, Ian can’t help but look around. He’s never actually been up here before, never needed to.</p><p>He’s heard stories of how Mickey’s business started, with sheets crudely hung up to provide a hint of privacy and old charity mattresses, and it’s a far sight from what he sees now. False walls have been built into half a dozen cubicles through the main room of the apartment, three either side, with two doors leading off at the other end of the room. Mandy walks that way, and Ian doesn’t know how to feel about the noises coming from the cubicles as they pass them.</p><p><em>I might end up in one of these cubicles, and then Mickey will hear me… </em>The thought invades Ian’s mind before he can stop it, triggering memories of bright blue eyes that make him go weak at the knees and a long-suffering crush that Ian has tried so hard to dismiss.</p><p>One of the doors is open, revealing a toilet and a sink. The other door is closed, and Mandy raps her knuckles on it. A muffled curse comes from behind the door and Mandy rolls her eyes as she pushes it open, and they walk in.</p><p>The office is tidier than Ian expected – he’s seen the inside of the Milkovich house, and it’s never tidy. Mickey’s office is sparsely furnished, with a desk in the middle, one chair behind and two in front, and a wooden cabinet underneath the window behind the desk.</p><p>Mickey is sitting in the chair behind the desk, an array of paperwork spread out in front of him. He’s got a pen in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and a scowl on his face.</p><p>“Would it kill you to smile, douchebag?” Mandy sneers, dropping into one of the guest chairs in front of him. Ian lowers himself into the other chair, pressing his hands together in his lap to prevent himself from wringing them nervously.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood for your shit today, Mandy,” Mickey snaps, dropping his eyes back down to the paperwork in front of him. He takes a drag from his cigarette and then puts it out in the ashtray next to him. “Can we just get the fuck on with this?” Mandy rolls her eyes again.</p><p>“Ian needs a job,” she says.</p><p>“What’s wrong with the one he has now? Probably pays better than what he’ll get here.”</p><p>“They treat him like shit.”</p><p>“You think I won’t?”</p><p>“Not like they do.” Something in Mandy’s tone gets Mickey’s attention, because he finally looks up.</p><p>“What do you mean?” He directs his question at Mandy but can’t help glancing at Ian, who is determinedly not looking at either of them.</p><p>“Ian…” her voice is softer than Mickey has ever heard it as she coaxes her best friend into the conversation. “He needs to know.” Ian looks at her and, with a deep, shaky sigh, turns to look at Mickey.</p><p>“They’re not good with boundaries,” he explains. “Have to do anything the customer wants, no complaints.”</p><p>“Like what?” The sad look in Ian’s eyes makes Mickey feel like a dick for asking, but he can’t go with half a story. He’s worked too hard to make this business as legit as it can be. Ian scratches the back of his neck.</p><p>“Taking drugs with the customer, not using a condom, not using lube, role-play, kinks, changing positions… fuck, man, just whatever the customer wants.”</p><p>“They force you?” Ian nods, looking down at his hands.</p><p>“Tell him what happened when you told them about your meds,” Mandy prompts. Mickey is already horrified by what he’s hearing, but he can tell by Mandy’s tone that it’s about to get worse.</p><p>Sure enough, Ian pales at her words.</p><p>“Fuck, okay…” he mutters. “You know I’m bipolar, right?” He glances back up at Mickey, who nods. He remembers Frank Gallagher announcing to everyone in The Alibi one night that Ian had officially been declared crazy, <em>just like his mother</em>. Told anyone who would listen about Ian’s dishonourable discharge from the army, like it was everyone’s business.</p><p>Nobody was surprised when Frank was found bloody and unconscious in the alley behind the bar the next morning and, if they noticed, nobody mentioned the bruises on Mickey’s knuckles. Later, if anyone saw him scrolling through medical websites on his phone, reading about Bipolar Disorder, they didn’t mention that either.</p><p>“Well, I can’t do drugs or even drink much anymore, anything like that seriously fucks with my medication. Took me long enough to get everything balanced out,” Ian continues. “I managed to get by at the club for a little while without telling anyone this, just gave a piss-poor excuse anytime someone tried to slip me something. Did anything else they wanted… should’ve fucking known–” He breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut angrily. He’s so focused on his own emotions that he doesn’t notice when Mickey, white-knuckled and seething, snaps his pen in half. Mandy notices, watching as he tosses it in the trash can under his desk.</p><p>After several long moments, Ian carries on speaking.</p><p>“Someone complained to my boss, and I had to tell them about my diagnosis and my meds. Earned myself a beating and was told that they couldn’t care less about my problems, only what the customer was willing to pay for.” He laughs once, a harsh sound that fills the Milkovich siblings with despair. “Ironic, isn’t it? I’m a queer in the fucking South Side and I get jumped, not for being gay, but for <em>not</em> taking drugs?”</p><p>Mickey feels sick. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to get past the rage that’s threatening to overwhelm him. Those motherfuckers need dealing with…</p><p>“There’s no point.” Ian’s voice breaks through his thoughts. He blinks, looking over at Ian, whose eyes now hold a hint of amusement.</p><p>“The fuck are you talking about?”</p><p>“You get the same look that Mandy gets when thinking about dealing with something The Milkovich Way.” Mandy scoffs while Mickey rolls his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, absently running his thumb over his top lip. “The fuck do you mean, <em>there’s no point</em>? There’s every fuckin' point from where I’m standing.”</p><p>“The whole place is fucked. Going after one manager won’t change anything, not to mention that I have no fucking clue who complained about me, so there’s no point.”</p><p>Mickey hates how resigned Ian sounds.</p><p>“Don’t you want to get out of this shit, man?” He asks, hoping against hope that neither of them hears the crack in his voice. The thought of Ian being forced to do things against his wishes will not leave his mind. Ian shrugs.</p><p>“The shit with the army is on my record, so that and my medical history make it difficult to find a decent paying job. I haven’t been stable long enough to be taken seriously. Linda took me back on at the Kash &amp; Grab, but she can’t give me many hours, and things are tight at home.”</p><p>His thoughts drift to the EMT training application packet hidden under his mattress. He almost went for it until the incident at the club, had almost finished filling it out. Then he’d come home, bloody and bruised, and shoved it out of sight.</p><p>“Come on, Mick,” Mandy pleads. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s the only option for now. The girls say you’re a good boss, and I know you’ll look after him.”</p><p>Ian notices Mickey shuffling with his papers, chewing his lip. He eventually sighs, pulling out two sheets of paper and pushing them towards Ian.</p><p>“There’s a contract for you to look over and sign, and then a checklist or whatever. I need to know what you will do, what you won’t do, anything that’s a maybe. Condoms are to always be used, no objections – if your client is being a bitch about it, tell them to fuck off.” His words come out in a rush; he wants this over with. “As for your bipolar–“ Ian looks up from the papers in his hands. “–I know a little about it, enough to know that it’s not always smooth sailing for you, even with the meds, so I want you to keep me updated on every little thing, alright? Any sign of a high or a low, if you need to take a day to go to the clinic, you tell me. That is non-fucking-negotiable, got it?”</p><p>Ian’s eyes are wide as Mickey finishes speaking, holding his gaze.</p><p>“Got it,” he says quietly. They continue to look at each other for several more moments before Mickey nods, leaning back in his chair.</p><p>“You still working at the club?” He asks, frowning when Ian nods.</p><p>“Got a shift tonight.”</p><p>“Don’t go back.” Ian opens his mouth to protest, but Mickey holds a hand up to stop him. “Don’t fuckin' argue with me. Even if you decide that you don’t want to work for me, we’ll figure something else out, but you are not going back there.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Ian whispers, and Mickey will never tell anyone about the way his heart stuttered as the ghost of a smile flashed across Ian’s face.</p><p>Ian leaves the room first; Mandy holds back just long enough to reach across the desk to squeeze Mickey’s shoulder and, without thinking, he places his hand above hers for a second, and then she’s gone as well.</p><p>Mickey presses the palms of his hands into his eyes to stop the stinging.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian doesn’t go straight home after parting ways with Mandy. He knows he should because he promised to help Liam with his homework tonight. But he just can’t seem to make his feet walk that way.</p><p>Instead, he turns on his heel and walks back into The Alibi. Tommy and Kermit are sitting at the far end of the bar like always, engrossed in an oddly passionate debate with Kevin about whether or not the 1969 Moon Landing was fake. Ian slides onto a bar stool closer to the door. Veronica greets him with a warm smile.</p><p>“What can I get you?”</p><p>“Beer, please.” She pours one out for him and places the full glass on the bar in front of him. He mutters his thanks, taking a small sip.</p><p>“Don’t see you around here much anymore.” Vee’s attempt to start up a conversation with him makes him smile. He humours her for a little while before her attention is caught by Kev and she leaves Ian with his beer and his thoughts.</p><p>He can’t stop going over his meeting with Mickey, replaying every second of it in his mind. The relief that coursed through him at Mickey’s promise to help him no matter what has made him realise just how exhausted he is; he can’t even remember the last time he had any time off.</p><p>The papers Mickey gave him are burning a hole in his pocket.</p><p>When Mickey asked him if he wouldn’t prefer to get out of this work, he desperately wanted to say <em>yes</em>. He’s tired of the life he’s currently leading, a life that hasn’t felt like his own since he enlisted. He only remembers flashes of the time when he first went manic, and he can recall even less of the first time he crashed. If he were being honest, from his short stint in the army up until his meds were finally balanced is all fuzzy.</p><p>He prefers it that way.</p><p>Working for Mickey won’t be ideal, and he’s already preparing himself for the shit he’s going to get from his family for it. But somehow, he knows that he’ll be safe. He remembers the rage flashing through Mickey’s eyes as he recounted what’s gone on in the club, his casual admittance that he knows enough about Bipolar Disorder to try to accommodate Ian’s needs, the fact that he’s given Ian the opportunity to set his own boundaries before he’s even begun to work for him.</p><p>He remembers the first time he noticed Mickey, really noticed him; a few weeks into his ‘relationship’ with Mandy, Terry was in prison and Mandy invited him over. They’d been on the couch watching a movie, Mandy cuddled into his side to keep up the façade that they were actually dating, when Mickey had come storming through the house and into his bedroom. After several moments, he came back out, flopping down onto the couch on Ian’s other side, and it didn’t take long for Ian to become so painfully <em>aware</em> of Mickey that he had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.</p><p>Now, the only problem is whether or not Ian can handle his own feelings for Mickey enough to work for him – to fuck someone else in such close proximity, wishing it was him.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>3 a.m. finally rolls around and Mickey is waiting for the girls to file out of the room so that he can lock up for the night. Svetlana is the last to leave, pulling her jacket on as she walks towards the door. She turns to Mickey in the doorway.</p><p>“Mandy told me of orange boy,” she says, raising an eyebrow. He rolls his eyes.</p><p>“What the fuck is it with you two?” He demands. “What’s it to you, anyway?” She eyes him carefully.</p><p>“He will be good for business,” she concedes. “But if he is to work for you, you must keep emotions in check.” Mickey stares at her. While he’s been out for a few years now – since Terry got himself stabbed to death in prison – he doesn’t go around broadcasting his sexuality, and he sure as hell has never told anyone about his feelings for Ian Gallagher.</p><p>“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He snaps. Svetlana rolls her eyes, immune to his attitude.</p><p>“Mandy is not stupid, I am not stupid,” she says flatly. “Your heart is on sleeve, so don’t be shocked when sometimes people see.” She turns away from him and walks away, leaving him anxiously chewing his lip as he stares after her.</p><p>He knows that Iggy is hosting a party at the Milkovich house and he suddenly doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. After locking the door from the inside, he turns and heads back into his office. He drops into his chair, dragging the palm of his hand over his face. He lights a cigarette and stares at the wall as he smokes, drowning in his thoughts of Ian in his office earlier, recounting his abuse with the sad air of someone who thought he didn’t deserve any better.</p><p>Ian, who’s never been far from Mickey’s thoughts ever since Mandy introduced him as her boyfriend all those years ago. Back when Mickey’s sexuality was a part of himself that he was still trying to deny, Ian Gallagher’s green eyes brought him to the crashing realisation that he was definitely into guys, especially <em>this motherfucker</em>.</p><p>Ian, who’s been through <em>so much</em> in such a short time that it takes every ounce of Mickey’s self-control to stop him from marching to the Gallagher house right now to check on him.</p><p>Ian.</p><p>Ian.</p><p>
  <em>Ian.</em>
</p><p>Mickey bites his lip so hard he tastes blood.</p><p>Svetlana’s words pierce through him, <em>keep emotions in check</em>. Knowing that it’s happening, and most likely being able to hear Ian fucking someone else will drive him crazy. The thought of it is already making him jealous, possessive of Ian in a way that he has no right to be.</p><p>The only positive of the arrangement is that he knows Ian will be safe, which is all Mickey really needs.</p><p>*</p><p>Ian knows he can’t begin working for Mickey without telling his family. He brings it up over dinner the next evening, because for once all six of them are together and he wants to be honest with them.</p><p>“I’m not working at the club anymore,” he begins tentatively, glancing around as he gains everyone’s attention.</p><p>“Why not?” Fiona asks, frowning. “Did you get fired?”</p><p>“No, I left.”</p><p>“Did something happen?” Lip asks. Ian shrugs.</p><p>“I’d rather not get into it,” he says. “But I need you to trust that I had good reason.”</p><p>His siblings aren’t stupid; even Liam can tell that it’s bad, but thankfully no one pushes him.</p><p>“Have you got another job? Your tips from the club were really helping us with the squirrel fund,” Fiona says, though he can tell she hates having to mention the money.</p><p>“I’m doing a few hours for Linda again, and…” he pauses, unsure. “Mickey offered me a job.”</p><p>A stunned silence follows.</p><p>“Mickey Milkovich?” Carl asks, raising his eyebrows. “Isn’t he a pimp?”</p><p>“What the fuck, Ian?” Debbie demands, screwing her face up. “You wanna be a hooker?”</p><p>“It’s not my preferred career choice, Debs, no” he responds, sighing.</p><p>“But his whorehouse is right above The Alibi – everyone will know!”</p><p>“Everyone already knows what I do at the club. How will this be any different?”</p><p>“It’s just a bit closer to home, that’s all.” Lip’s tone is calm, but firm enough that Debbie doesn’t say anything else. “You sure about it?” Ian looks at him, remembering how he used to tell Lip everything. Maybe tonight he’ll try to pick that habit back up.</p><p>“A lot of bad shit happened at the club,” Ian finally says, after several moments of silence. “Shit that I really don’t want to talk about. I already know that working for Mickey will be better for me.” He looks around the table, noting the concern in his siblings’ expressions. “It’ll be temporary – believe me, all this shit has just made me want to get back into the real working world even more. This is just to make sure that I’m still bringing money into the house until I can really sort myself out.”</p><p>“If you’re sure,” Fiona says, offering him a smile. He returns it with a nod, and within moments the conversation has moved on.</p><p>*</p><p>Later that night, Mickey is sat in his office, halfway through a drag of his cigarette when there’s a knock at the door.</p><p>“What?” he calls irritably. People have been annoying the fuck out of him all day. The door opens and Ian’s face appears, an apologetic smile on his face.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says. “Was hoping we could talk, if you’ve got a minute?” His voice is soft, so soft that it completely catches Mickey off guard.</p><p>Not trusting himself to speak, Mickey gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. Ian shuts the door behind him and takes a seat, pulling some crumpled papers out of his pocket. He smooths them out and pushes them towards Mickey. Instead of picking them up straightaway, Mickey picks up his carton of cigarettes and offers it to Ian, who takes one with a muttered <em>thanks</em>. Mickey hands him a lighter and picks up the papers.</p><p>The first one is the contract, detailing everything a contract should, with Ian’s scrawled signature along the bottom line. He glances over at Ian, which he instantly regrets because <em>damn, he looks good when he smokes</em> – he really is fucked if that’s all it takes – and returns his attention to the papers. He flicks the first one back onto the desk and chuckles slightly at the sight of Ian’s list of limits. It’s longer than all of his girls’ lists combined.</p><p>“Quite a list, Gallagher,” he says, looking up. Ian shrugs, reaching up to scratch his nose.</p><p>“If working at that place taught me anything, it’s where I want to draw a line.” Mickey regards him carefully, before skimming through his list. He raises an eyebrow at one line.</p><p>“So, you’re a top, huh?” Ian snorts, shaking his head.</p><p>“Had this one guy who wanted to top me,” he explains. “Keep in mind that I never bottomed before this. The fucker had some weird kink about going in dry. Hurt like a motherfucker.” Mickey stares at him in shock. Noticing his expression, Ian waves a hand dismissively. “Only managed one poke, just the tip at that – the guy was so high I’m surprised he got it up long enough to do that.”</p><p>“That’s fucked up, man.”</p><p>“It is what it is,” Ian says, shrugging. He eyes Mickey warily, who has gone back to skimming the list.</p><p>“No kissing?”</p><p>“Too personal.” Mickey nods, chewing his lip. “Are there any problems with what I wrote?”</p><p>“Nah, man,” Mickey replies. “You’ll do all the important shit. This ain’t a place for anything fancy – these fuckers come here to get their rocks off and leave.”</p><p>“Is it going to be weird for you? Having a guy working for you?” The question takes Mickey by surprise, because in all honesty he hadn’t considered the situation objectively. He had only been thinking of Ian.</p><p>“Haven’t really thought about it,” he admits, lighting another cigarette. “But nah, I don’t think so.” They’re both quiet as they smoke. Steeling himself, he looks at Ian again. “Give me a few days to sort out getting you some clients. Any of the fairies from the club decent enough to come here for you?”</p><p>“A couple.”</p><p>“I need their names,” Mickey says. On seeing Ian’s inquisitive look, he continues, “so I can make sure that no other fucker claiming to be an old customer of yours gets near you.”</p><p>Ian stares at him for a second before his lips curve into a shy smile and he ducks his head.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says softly, and Mickey is suddenly reminded of the last time they were alone together.</p><p>Ian was visiting Mandy at their house and they were sprawled across the couch playing video games when Mickey came home. He did his usual routine of disappearing into his room for several minutes before coming back out to join them. Mandy got up to go to the bathroom and, after several long moments, Mickey allowed himself a glance at Ian, only to discover that Ian was already looking at him.</p><p>Ian quickly looked away, a blush creeping up his neck, and Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to stop himself from wondering whether Ian’s whole body flushed like that. He was aware of his jeans becoming uncomfortable and he tried to readjust his body without drawing attention to it, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking at Ian again, only to find Ian looking right back at him, and this time neither of them looked away. Ian held Mickey’s gaze, his eyes sparkling, and Mickey’s mouth went dry as he realised that it wasn’t just him, they <em>both</em> felt it, and he opened his mouth to maybe say something–</p><p>Then the front door opened, and Terry stormed in, followed by Iggy and Colin, and Mickey’s heart almost stopped as his reality came crashing back to him, and he scrambled up and dived into his room. When he felt calm enough to come back out, Ian was gone.</p><p>A few weeks later, he found out that Ian had enlisted, and the regret he felt almost crushed him.</p><p>Now, as the two of them sit in the quiet of his office, he wonders whether Ian remembers, too. But with a long drag of his cigarette, he reminds himself that, as Ian’s boss, there’s a new boundary in place.</p><p>He abruptly puts the cigarette out and gets to his feet, startling Ian.</p><p>“Come on,” he says brusquely, “I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone for the kudos &amp; the reviews on the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed this next instalment just as much &amp; that you stick with me through wherever I take this!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I decided to write this chapter from Mandy's perspective because I wanted to show an outside perspective, &amp; also because Ian &amp; Mandy have the most beautiful friendship, &amp; I wish that this had been given more attention in the show. </p><p>This chapter is slightly shorter than the first two, which I apologise for, but it's only very slightly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mandy flits about in the Gallagher kitchen as she waits for Ian to come down, singing along to the radio that’s playing from her phone. The house is empty apart from the two of them, and she’s taking advantage of it by making breakfast for them.</p><p>It’s been three weeks since Ian started working for Mickey and, though he’s still physically exhausted as he balances helping out at home, picking up some day shifts for Linda, and working nights for Mickey, he’s no longer miserable.</p><p>She has tipped the eggs onto their plates next to slightly burnt slices of toast and is just pouring out their coffee as Ian comes bounding down the stairs. He looks better in himself – the slow process of rebuilding his confidence in himself is already showing, she notes with a smile. He grins at her as he comes to stand beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulders.</p><p>“Looks fucking amazing, Mands,” he exclaims. “Thanks for doing this.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.” They move to the table, but Ian doesn’t sit down. He picks up a chair and takes it over to the sink, standing on it and reaching for something stashed on top of the cabinets.</p><p>“What are you doing?” She asks, frowning when he doesn’t answer straightaway. After several seconds, he drops back down with three orange pill bottles in his hand. He brings the chair back to the table and sits down next to her. He snorts at her bemused expression, ducking his head as he enthusiastically digs into his breakfast, and Mandy wonders when the last time was that he had more than a morning Pop Tart to take his meds with.</p><p>“Why the fuck are they up there?”</p><p>“To hide them from Frank. He stole them last week. Plus, I’m pretty sure Fiona likes to count them to make sure I’m taking them.” Mandy rolls her eyes. She and Fiona have never shied away from their mutual dislike of each other.</p><p>“Doesn’t she trust you?” Ian shrugs, finishing off his food.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. “Probably not, but I don’t blame her. When Frank found them, he stole the pills but left the bottles in the trash and Fiona thought I’d flushed them. Again, I don’t blame her because I’ve done that before.” He pauses to tip the pills he needs from each bottle into his hand and takes them with a sip of his coffee. “But we ended up having a huge fight and I could tell she didn’t believe that I hadn’t flushed them, so I left.”</p><p>“Where did you go?” Mandy asks, leaning back in her chair.</p><p>“To the clinic,” he replies. “Believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do. My phone was blowing up with all these messages from my family, asking where I was and why I had done it, and I was so fucking mad at them for not believing me. But I can’t skip a dose, and I hadn’t had them that morning because of Frank, so I went to the clinic to get a prescription and then to the pharmacy.” He smiles sadly. “I came back here again because I need to take them with food, and I’d left my wallet here. By the time I got back, Fiona had called a family meeting and they all just stared at me. So, I took my dose while they watched, told them all to fuck off for not trusting me, and went back out again.”</p><p>Mandy doesn’t know how to respond, so she lets several moments go by in silence while she sips her coffee. She finds that she doesn’t have to respond, as Ian starts talking again, staring into his cup as he speaks.</p><p>“It was the first time in months that I’ve really <em>not</em> wanted to take them,” he says quietly. “Even when I was going through all that shit at the club, and I knew how easy it would be to just slip into old habits, I kept taking them because I don’t want to be that person again. But knowing that I’m at a point in my life where my family would rather believe Frank over me almost tipped me over the edge.”</p><p>“What made you decide to go to the clinic?”</p><p>He glances up at her, not responding, and his abrupt silence has Mandy cursing herself for saying anything. He swallows, and she realises he is nervous.</p><p>“Mickey, actually,” he finally says, avoiding her eyes. She frowns.</p><p>“Mickey?” She repeats. Ian finally looks up at her properly, and she notices how there’s a shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes have gone soft.</p><p>“Mickey,” he confirms. “He put a lot of trust in me when he gave me a job, and I know it’s not exactly something to list on my resume, but…”</p><p>Mandy can’t help but smile affectionately at her best friend as he tries to justify why Mickey is the reason he didn’t stop taking his meds without drawing attention to the elephant in the room. She’s known of his feelings for her brother since he got drunk one night when they were seventeen and he confided in her, but they’ve never talked about it since.</p><p>Sitting at this table with him, she knows that it’s as simple as <em>Mickey</em>.</p><p>*</p><p>When Mandy was sixteen, she caught her brother looking at Ian. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except he wasn’t looking at Ian the same way he usually looked at people, like he would throw a punch if anyone so much as breathed in his direction. No, this was different. This was how she used to look at Ian, before he set her straight (ironically) and she discovered that she much preferred having him as her best friend anyway.</p><p>Mickey was looking at Ian like he <em>wanted</em> him.</p><p>After that first time, she always noticed, but she kept it to herself. She wanted to wait until the right moment to bring it up to Mickey, to let him know that it was okay and that he could trust her. But the more she observed Mickey around Ian, the more she realised that Mickey was terrified of whatever feelings he was dealing with. She knew she had to let him work through it himself.</p><p>She had no idea that Ian felt the same way about Mickey until his drunken confession and, though she had resolved never to say anything, she suddenly looked for ways to leave them alone together. She could never manage more than a few minutes without arousing suspicion, and to her dismay it never worked anyway.</p><p>She finally cracked when Ian enlisted, and went looking for Mickey. He wasn’t at the Milkovich house with their brothers, nor at any of his usual haunts. It was late afternoon when she finally found him, lurking under the L, shooting at a tower of empty beer cans. Her anger and despair propelled her feet towards him, put her hands on him and shoved him backwards with everything she had.</p><p>“You could have kept him here!” She yelled, resenting the crack in her voice.</p><p>“The fuck are you talking about, you crazy bitch?” He stared at her with wide, confused eyes. She moved towards him again and he took a step back.</p><p>“Ian left,” she snapped. If she knew less, she might have missed the alarm that flashed across his face.</p><p>He hesitated only a moment before asking, “why the fuck is that my problem?”</p><p>“Don’t play fucking dumb with me.” Her voice was dangerously low, and he swallowed, making a visible effort to keep his expression blank. “I saw the way you two looked at each other, and if you hadn’t been such a goddamn pussy and done something about it, he would have stayed.”</p><p>Mickey rocked on his heels, reaching up to run his thumb across his lip.</p><p>“Where’d he go?” He finally asked.</p><p>“Why do you care?” Mandy sneered.</p><p>“Just answer the fucking question.”</p><p>“Enlisted.”</p><p>“Fuck off, he’s not eighteen yet.”</p><p>“He found a way.”</p><p>“Shit.” His mask finally fell, and Mandy could see her devastation mirrored in her brother’s face.</p><p>Like it had been with Ian, she and Mickey never discussed his feelings again.</p><p>*</p><p>Mandy offers to walk Ian to the Kash &amp; Grab for his shift and he agrees, both relishing the rare opportunity to spend more time together. She half listens to him whitter on about how much easier Linda is to work for now that she’s no longer weighed down by her ex-husband’s failings.</p><p>“Ian–” she interrupts him before she can stop herself. He looks over at her as they walk, an amused smile on his face.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I just – do you remember the night we got drunk down at the baseball field, and we talked about love?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he says slowly. Mandy’s fingers nervously comb through her hair.</p><p>“Do – do you remember what we – what you told me?” He’s quiet for so long that she isn’t sure he heard her, until they walk past a park and he gestures to an empty bench.</p><p>“Of course,” he says when they’ve sat down. “I finally found the balls to tell you that I had a thing for your brother, who at the time I knew to be more than a little homophobic. I know better now, obviously, but back then…” Mandy sighs.</p><p>“Gotta admit, I was weirded out by it,” she says. “But then you always did have bad taste in guys.”</p><p>“Oh, come on–” Ian protests.</p><p>“Kash? Ned? Caleb?” Mandy counts on her fingers. “Two were kid-fuckers and all three were assholes.” With a laugh, Ian shakes his head.</p><p>“All right,” he concedes. “I don’t think Mickey is the same kind of asshole, though.”</p><p>“You still like him?” Mandy asks, though she already knows the answer.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says. “I’m not sure why, because nothing ever happened between us. The closest we got was having a weird moment when I realised that it wasn’t just me, and if your fucking dad hadn’t come back and freaked Mickey out, something might have come of it.”</p><p>“Fucking Terry.”</p><p>“Fucking Terry,” Ian agrees. He checks his watch. “Can we carry on walking? I know I said Linda is easier to work for, but she’ll still be on my ass for being late.”</p><p>They continue towards the convenience store, and Mandy entertains him with her good memories of Mickey as a child, both laughing until their stomachs hurt. It isn’t until they reach the store that Mandy asks one last question.</p><p>“Is it weird, working for Mickey when you feel this way about him?” Ian shoves his hands in his pockets, wrinkling his nose.</p><p>“Really fucking weird,” he admits. “It’s easier when he’s not there, obviously, but when I know he’s in his office or even just downstairs at the bar, it can be difficult to concentrate.” He suddenly grins wickedly. “The closet cases paying for me don’t need to know that it’s not them I’m hard for.”</p><p>“Too much!” Mandy whines in disgust, punching his arm. He laughs before leaning over to lightly kiss her forehead, waving goodbye as he ducks into the store. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. She turns away from the store, continuing down the street in the direction of The Alibi.</p><p>It’s time she had a talk with Mickey.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you guys think that I should continue the next part from Mandy's perspective, let me know!</p><p>As always, thank you to everyone for the love on this fic! Comments &amp; ideas are always appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: for the sake of this AU, Svetlana is not in the US illegally &amp; the other girls aren't either, whether it's because they're married to US citizens or for whatever other reason. I know it would be closer to canon if they were but I chose not to go with it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mandy breezes into The Alibi. It’s still early, with only the most loyal patrons dotting the space. She walks over to where Tommy and Kermit are sitting, sipping their beers in companiable silence. She stops long enough to ask whether they’ve seen Mickey come through the bar yet – they have, <em>he’s a real ray of sunshine today</em> – before heading upstairs.</p><p>The girls don’t usually start yet, so Mandy is surprised to see the space bustling with activity, until she clocks what they’re wearing: simple black masseuse tunics and trousers. Mickey must be expecting an official visit. He might have taken several steps to be as legit as possible, including his refusal to hire illegal girls, but his little venture is still very illegal under Illinois law.</p><p>Mandy spots Svetlana pulling Yelena’s thick black hair into a formal updo and heads over to her, smirking at Yelena’s efforts not to wince as Svetlana catches her scalp with a pin.</p><p>“He is in office,” Svetlana says to Mandy without looking at her. “But he is in bad mood.”</p><p>“Isn’t he always?” Mandy rolls her eyes before smiling at Svetlana as she walks away. She weaves through the girls as they rush around, switching their supplies of condoms and lube for towels and massage oils, well trained in the act of making this seem like a legitimate massage parlour.</p><p>The office door is ajar, so Mandy doesn’t bother to knock before she enters. Mickey is stood by the window, looking down at his phone with a frown. Mandy shuts the door behind her, and he looks up when he hears the click. His frown turns into a scowl.</p><p>“The fuck do you want?” He snaps.</p><p>“Can’t I visit my darling brother without needing a reason?” She sneers. He flips her off, looking back down at his phone.</p><p>“No, you fuckin’ can’t. That pig Porter is on his way to try and catch me out again.”</p><p>“How do you know?” She asks the question slyly, furrowing her brows deceptively as she feigns innocence. She knows that this is undoubtedly not a good time to bait Mickey, but she’s going to do it anyway. He scowls at her again.</p><p>“What, screwing Lip Gallagher shake your brain loose or something? You know Markovich gives me a heads up.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Mandy snorts. “I remember, although I’m still confused as to how you managed to get the <em>least</em> corrupt cop the South Side has ever seen to take a bribe.” When Mickey doesn’t respond, she decides to push. “My theory is that you fucked him.” She most definitely does not think that, but as she expects, his head snaps back up as he stares at her.</p><p>“The fuck?”</p><p>“Oh, <em>that’s right</em>. He’s not your type, is he?” She smirks. “You prefer redheads.”</p><p>The tips of Mickey’s ears turn pink as he continues to stare at her, pressing his mouth into a thin line.</p><p>“I’m not doing this with you,” he snaps. “Get the fuck out.”</p><p>“No,” she states, folding her arms across her chest. She even sticks her chin out in the same way that Ian does when he’s being stubborn. Mickey huffs in front of her, running a hand over his face. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it and closes it again. Instead, he chews his lip thoughtfully.</p><p>“Let one of the girls give you a massage while Porter sniffs around,” he finally says. “Then we’ll talk. Maybe.” Mandy considers him for a moment, watching him as he shifts impatiently.</p><p>“Fine, douchebag,” she concedes, standing up. “Can it be Svet? She’s good.”</p><p>“What the fuck ever, bitch.”</p><p>As Mandy opens the door, she turns back towards Mickey.</p><p>“But just for future reference, Ian’s better.”</p><p>“Just fucking <em>go</em>!”</p><p>She cackles to herself as she pulls the door shut behind her.</p><p>*</p><p>Officer Porter has been relentlessly trying to catch Mickey out since he caught wind of what he was running above The Alibi, but it didn’t take long for him to find out that Mickey wasn’t as stupid as every other Milkovich that Porter had dealt with in the past. Mickey grew up watching his father, uncles, and brothers spend their days planning and carrying out more illegal activities than he cared to count, and he’d learnt from their mistakes – he put in the time and the effort to properly cover his ass.</p><p>Everyone knows what kind of business he’s running, but as long as the cops have no proof, he’s in the clear.</p><p>Mandy relishes the opportunity to have a free massage from Svetlana while Porter and his buddies stomp around the building, not letting it faze her when one of them bursts into the cubicle, clearly hoping to catch them in a more compromising position. She doesn’t need to look up when he tells them to move so that he can search the space, because Svetlana promptly tells him to search around them.</p><p>“This girl has lots on her mind, shoulders are tense,” she snaps without taking her attention away from Mandy, for which the latter is thankful as this has made her realise that her shoulders are, in fact, very tense.</p><p>The cop mutters a terse response and the silence that follows is enough to tell Mandy that Svetlana is glaring at him that cold, unforgiving way that’s been known to make grown men piss themselves. He quickly leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. Svetlana tuts.</p><p>“Why are you tense?” She asks Mandy, who grumbles inaudibly before sighing.</p><p>“Mickey and Ian.” Svetlana tuts again.</p><p>“Is pathetic, how they dance around.”</p><p>“Is it really obvious?”</p><p>“Stupidly so.”</p><p>“Christ,” Mandy mumbles, hissing as Svetlana’s fingers push under her shoulder blades. “How is Ian doing, working here?”</p><p>“He is good for business,” Svetlana says.</p><p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Svetlana’s hands pause, and Mandy almost lifts her head, but she soon continues.</p><p>“Seems okay,” she says, with a sigh. “Is good with clients. Good with the girls. Yelena likes him, says it is shame he prefers penis.” Mandy giggles.</p><p>“He’s always been good with people,” she says. Svetlana hums in response, before firmly telling her to stop talking.</p><p>*</p><p>She’s feeling much more relaxed when she walks back into Mickey’s office a little while later, though her grin falters slightly when she finds him sat at his desk with his head in his hands. The FUCK U-UP tattoos on his knuckles are faded as hell but still stand out as he pushes his fingers through his hair. He looks up when he hears the door.</p><p>“Ah, fuck,” he grumbles, clearly having hoped that she wouldn’t bother him again today. Or ever.</p><p>“Sorry to disappoint, fuckwad,” she teases gleefully.</p><p>“The fuck do you want, Mandy?” He lights a cigarette, closing his eyes as he smokes as if he can block her out.</p><p>“Just to talk,” she replies, sitting down. She watches him carefully, taking note of the circles under his eyes, the crease between his brows that never seems to go away. Concern washes over her; they may not have ever had a particularly close relationship, but they’ve never not been there for each other.</p><p>Mandy will never forget when he came out, after they had been told of Terry’s death in prison. Four of the Milkovich kids had traipsed down to The Alibi to get drunk, whether in mourning or celebration, none of them could tell. They had sunk into a booth and said nothing for several minutes while they nursed their drinks.</p><p>Until Mickey suddenly necked the rest of his beer and slammed his glass down on the table, startling Mandy in the seat next to him.</p><p>“I’m fuckin’ gay,” he blurted, nervously glancing around at all of them before training his eyes to the glass in front of him. Mandy placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly; he reached up to grab her hand and gripped it tightly.</p><p>“We know,” Iggy said. Both Mandy and Mickey looked over at him in surprise, and Iggy shrugged.</p><p>“We don’t care,” Colin said gruffly, as though he sensed that Mickey needed that affirmation. Mickey’s shoulders sagged in relief.</p><p>“How did you know?” Mandy asked curiously.</p><p>“Just knew,” Iggy replied simply, shrugging again.</p><p>“Did – did Terry know?” Mickey asked. Colin and Iggy exchanged a glance.</p><p>“Think you’d still be alive if he did?” Colin asked, raising an eyebrow. “We did what we could to keep it from him.”</p><p>“Kicked that Gallagher kid out of the house when we caught you eye-fuckin’ each other one time,” Iggy said, shaking his head. “Sorry Mand, but that kid is so gay, he might as well have rainbows coming out of his ass.” Mandy snorted, letting go of Mickey’s shoulder.</p><p>“Fuck,” Mickey said, choking on a laugh. Iggy suddenly stood up, shouting for the attention of everyone in the bar. Silence fell as they all turned to look at him, and he held his glass up in the air.</p><p>“Terry’s fuckin’ dead!” He announced, letting out a hard laugh. “Shots all round!”</p><p>They cheered.</p><p>Now, Mandy sits in silence with her brother, and she hates Terry all over again for everything he did to them because they are all still having trouble trying to accept the fact that they deserve happiness just as much as everyone else.</p><p>“So fuckin’ talk,” Mickey snaps, opening his eyes to glare at her. She rolls her eyes.</p><p>“How’s Ian getting on here?”</p><p>“Pretty fuckin’ good,” he admits after a beat. “Always got someone waiting for him. You were right about him being good for money.” He pauses for a moment, regarding her carefully. She frowns at his observation. “He asked for a night off last week, something about being really stressed out and needing time to chill out because of stress being bad for his bipolar, or some shit.”</p><p>“And? Did you give it to him?” Mandy demands.</p><p>“Course I fuckin’ did.” He scoffs. “Part of the deal was him being honest with me about this, so I can do what I can to help him. As his <em>boss</em>,” he adds when he notices Mandy’s smirk.</p><p>“Whatever.” She shrugs. “He tell you why he was stressed?” Mickey shakes his head.</p><p>“Some family shit, something about Frank,” he says. “When the fuck isn’t it about Frank?”</p><p>Mandy sighs, knowing Ian downplayed the situation deliberately because that’s just what Ian does. She knows she should respect Ian’s decision not to tell Mickey the full story, and she <em>does</em> respect that, but she’s doing this for <em>him</em>. She decides to tell Mickey the easiest part to shrug off, not wanting to betray Ian further by revealing the depth of his feelings for Mickey.</p><p>“Frank stole his pills. Caused a fight with his family.”</p><p>“He fucking <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“He went straight to get a refill, but his family were on his ass, which is what stressed him out the most.”</p><p>“Why were they on his ass if fuckin’ Frank took them?”</p><p>“That’s all I’m telling you,” she says firmly, pursing her lips. “I shouldn’t have even told you that, so you can’t tell him that I did.” Mickey waves his hand at her, muttering angrily to himself. He aggressively stubs his cigarette out.</p><p>“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”</p><p>“You ever wish that you’d made a move before he went to the army?” She asks. She half expects him to flip her off, tell her to leave, but he doesn’t. He glances at her once, then looks away.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says quietly, chewing his lip. “But I couldn’t risk… not with Terry…” He trails off, and they sit quietly for a few moments.</p><p>“What’s stopping you now?” Her voice is soft, encouraging. It’s the most sensitive conversation they’ve had since he came out. He looks at her then, and she sees the fear in his eyes.</p><p>“I can’t – I don’t know how – fuck,” he mutters, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I’m his fuckin’ boss, Mandy.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“<em>So</em>, it’s not gunna fucking happen. End of discussion.” Just like that, he shuts her out again.</p><p>Mandy laughs once, a cold, disbelieving sound. Mickey won’t meet her eyes. She stands up abruptly, glaring at him as she moves towards the door.</p><p>“Even with Terry gone, you’re still a pussy.”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything as she yanks the door open and storms out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone for the love on the previous chapter! I'm trying really hard to keep them in character, &amp; I hope they don't come across as too OOC at any point. I've had so much fun writing Mickey &amp; Ian from an outsider POV, especially because it was Mandy, but next chapter I'll be returning to them!</p><p>Hopefully this will be completed in a few more chapters, but I haven't planned ahead so I don't know for sure yet.</p><p>As always, comments &amp; ideas are much appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: this chapter contains a very small bout of violence as well as one use of a homophobic slur.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey is still reeling from his conversation with Mandy hours after she leaves. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s trying to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Mickey to deal with.</p>
<p>He spent so many years bottling his emotions, pretending like he didn’t care about anything, because one slip would bring Terry wailing down on him like an avalanche. Feelings, emotions, anything like that was for fags, and it had no place in the Milkovich house for as long as Terry was breathing.</p>
<p>Mickey hasn’t been able to break that habit yet, and he resents Mandy’s reluctance to let him work on it at his own pace. He tried so hard to get the words out earlier, but the stress of the day and Mandy’s revelation of Ian’s issues at home overwhelmed him, so he shut her down because it was easier. He just wishes it were that easy to block it from his own mind.</p>
<p>It’s been a slow night. It happens every so often, especially when word gets out that the cops paid Mickey a visit; it doesn’t help that the guy Mickey pays to be on the door called in sick tonight, so Mickey is stuck with the job. He’s opted for manning the downstairs door so that he can be closer to the bar.</p>
<p>He’d told Svetlana to fuck off when she accused him of doing it to be further away from Ian when he has clients. Of course, she was right, but that doesn’t mean he has to admit it.</p>
<p>He spends the evening in The Alibi, nursing a beer and talking to Iggy and Colin as they hog the pool table, checking on things upstairs regularly and occasionally escorting a client up. Most are regulars and they’ve usually got a preference as to who they have, which makes things easier for Mickey. All he has to do is take payment, make sure the right person is ready for them, and they’re sorted for however long.</p>
<p>The next man to approach Mickey is not a regular. Mickey’s never seen him before, and he eyes him warily. He’s an older man, well dressed, a confident smile on his face. Mickey has a gut feeling that this man is here for Ian, and he already fucking hates him, the same way he hates all of Ian’s clients.</p>
<p>“What?” Mickey asks bluntly, narrowing his eyes at the man as he leans in.</p>
<p>“I’m here for Ian,” he replies, winking conspiringly. Mickey’s lip curls, figuring that this man knows Ian from his time at the club.</p>
<p>“Name?” The man’s eyes widen in surprise.</p>
<p>“What do you need that for?” He asks, glancing around.</p>
<p>“If you wanna spend your night asking stupid fuckin’ questions, go do it someplace else,” Mickey snaps, necking the remainder of his beer and putting the glass down. The man sighs impatiently.</p>
<p>“Ned,” he says. “Ned Lishman.” It’s not a name that was on Ian’s short list of people from his club days who didn’t abuse him, but Mickey wants to check with him anyway. It’s absolutely <em>not</em> because he’s looking for an excuse to see Ian when he doesn’t have a client.</p>
<p>“Wait here.” He turns on his heel, pushes through the door and climbs the stairs two at a time. Entering the space upstairs, he finds Yelena standing by Ian’s cubicle, dressed in a thin robe, giggling. Mickey’s eyes shift to Ian, leaning on the doorframe of his cubicle, wearing only a pair of faded jeans that are slung low on his hips. His torso is bare, a slight sheen of sweat covering his shoulders, and Mickey’s breath catches in his throat like it does every time he sees Ian like this.</p>
<p>He almost doesn’t want to interrupt them as they laugh together, much preferring to admire Ian from a safe distance, but he knows he can’t. He clears his throat as he approaches them, raising his eyebrows at Yelena. She rolls her eyes at him and ducks back into her own cubicle, shutting the door behind her with a soft <em>click</em>.</p>
<p>“Hey, Mickey,” Ian says easily, making no plan to move from the doorway. Mickey has witnessed the change in Ian’s demeanour over the past few weeks, the evidence of his self-confidence returning. He’s much more relaxed, his eyes less haunted, and he smiles at Mickey in a way that lets him know that <em>they can both feel it</em>. It’s a dangerous game, one that Mickey isn’t sure he wants to win. Ian gives him one of those soft smiles now, and it takes everything in Mickey to not give in.</p>
<p>“Gallagher,” he says curtly. He reaches up to scratch his eyebrow, trying not to think about how badly he wants to kiss Ian Gallagher <em>right now</em>. “Got a guy downstairs for you – Ned-something?” The smile disappears as Ian wrinkles his nose and drags a hand across his face.</p>
<p>“That’s one I haven’t heard for a while,” he mutters.</p>
<p>“He one of the assholes from the club? If he is, I’m more than happy to send him on his merry fuckin’ way,” Mickey offers. Ian smiles ruefully at him, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Nah, I knew him before that,” he says vaguely, looking away. “Not sure I wanna see him, but he’ll pay well.” Mickey shoves his hands in his pockets.</p>
<p>“Not about the money, man,” he says impatiently. “If you don’t wanna see him, he’s gone.”</p>
<p>Ian looks at him again, that same soft smile playing on his lips, and Mickey doesn’t know how, but he just <em>knows</em> that he’s lost, and suddenly he’s okay with it, because for once in his life the desire to be <em>happy</em> is overtaking the desire to be <em>safe</em>. There is a good chance Ian can give him both. It’s a risk he didn’t take those years ago before Ian disappeared, but it’s a risk he has to take now.</p>
<p>“How about I kick the geriatric viagroid to the curb,” Mickey says, speaking before he chickens out, “and later on, I’ll bring up a bottle of Jack and you can tell me the whole story.”</p>
<p>Ian chuckles and nods, awarding Mickey with a grin. They continue to stare at each other for several seconds until Ian’s eyes slide down Mickey’s body and back up again and he smirks in such a way that makes Mickey go hot all over.</p>
<p>“See you later,” he says, his voice low, full of a promise.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Mickey whispers, moving away. “Fuck.” Ian’s laugh follows him down the stairs. His entire body is buzzing as he walks back into The Alibi, though seeing the expectant look on that old fuck’s face is enough to bring on a wave of possessiveness.</p>
<p>“Not happening,” Mickey says, waving his hand dismissively. “Door’s over there.” Surprise flickers over Ned’s face as he registers the way Mickey blocks the door, arms crossed. From the corner of his eye, he notices Iggy and Colin paying attention to their exchange.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand,” he says, confused. “I know Ian.”</p>
<p>“Are you deaf, blind, or just a fuckin’ moron?” Mickey snaps. “Fuck off.” Ned scoffs in disbelief, but he backs away when he finally clocks the way Iggy and Colin are eyeing him. He holds his hands up in surrender and leaves without further argument.</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ entitled prick,” Mickey mutters, shaking his head. He nods his thanks to Iggy and Colin as they resume their pool game. “Beer?” They both grunt a response, and Mickey heads over to the bar to order another round. While he’s waiting for Kev to pour the drinks, Frank Gallagher appears next to him.</p>
<p>“Not a very good pimp, are you?” He says, his voice grating on Mickey’s nerves.</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Frank.”</p>
<p>“He was obviously here for that twink son of mine, could read that closet-case from a mile away,” Frank continues as though Mickey hadn’t spoken, “although he’s not actually my son, thank God – but I’m just saying that turning paying customers away is not a good way to run a business.”</p>
<p>“That all you think he is, some twink?” Mickey’s voice is dangerously low as he turns to face Frank, although the latter is oblivious. “That why you took his pills?” Frank scoffs indignantly.</p>
<p>“Pathetic whiner doesn’t even need ‘em,” he argues. “Monica got on just fine without ‘em. He just likes to be dramatic.” As far as Mickey can tell, Frank is not at his usual level of drunk yet, which makes his words piss Mickey off even more. Without thinking, he reaches out, grabs the back of Frank’s head, and slams it onto the bar in front of him. There’s a satisfying <em>crack</em> and there’s blood spilling out of Frank’s nose already as he spits, struggling against Mickey’s hold, but Mickey holds him there as he leans in closer to his ear.</p>
<p>“Do it again, and I’ll break more than your fuckin’ nose,” he threatens. “Got it?” He doesn’t hear Frank’s garbled response as three beers are placed in front of him, and he looks up at Kev to see a resigned expression on the barman’s face.</p>
<p>“For Chrissakes, Frank,” he sighs. “You’re getting blood all over my bar again.”</p>
<p>Mickey doesn’t wait to hear Frank’s protests as he slaps a bill down, scoops up the beers and returns to Iggy and Colin.</p>
<p>“What’d he do?” Iggy asks, jerking his head in Frank’s direction.</p>
<p>“Running his fuckin’ mouth, as per usual,” Mickey replies, ignoring the knowing look exchanged between his brothers. He doesn’t care that they probably know exactly <em>what</em> Frank was running his mouth about, as long as they don’t think he’s willing to talk about it.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>By the time Kev announces last call, Iggy and Colin are long gone and Mickey is tense with impatience. The possessive feeling that overtook him earlier never went away, but only got worse as the night went on and a few more clients trickled in to pay for Ian’s attention, throwing a heavy bout of jealousy into the mix. By the time he walks up the stairs, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a beer in the other (Vee told him with a sly wink that Ian doesn’t drink hard liquor on his meds), the anticipation of spending time with Ian has his heart in his throat.</p>
<p>Everyone is still in their cubicles, but he can hear the tell-tale rustle of clothing and bags as they all get ready to leave. He puts the drinks in his office and goes back out to wait by the door. Soon, everyone except Ian is trickling out, Svetlana giving him a knowing smirk as she passes, and he’s locked the door behind them. Ian is waiting for him in his office, stood by the window with a cigarette between his lips, and he smiles when Mickey comes in.</p>
<p>Mickey pours himself a glass of whiskey and, joining Ian at the window, passes him the beer. Ian holds the cigarette out to him, and he takes it, a jolt going down his arm as their fingers brush against each other.</p>
<p>“Slow night, huh?” Ian breaks the silence with a neutral subject. Mickey nods as he takes a hit from the cigarette.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” A cloud of smoke blows out of his mouth as he speaks. “Cop visits scare everyone off for a few days.” Ian hums as he sips his beer.</p>
<p>“So, you met Ned,” he says with a sigh. “How’d he take the rejection?” Mickey rolls his eyes as a wave of disgust rolls over him at the mention of Ned.</p>
<p>“Tried to argue,” he says, “said he <em>knew you</em>, like that would change anything. But he fucked off pretty soon after that.” He watches Ian, watches as the streetlight from outside casts a shine on his red hair, the movement of his throat as he swallows another mouthful of beer. “You gunna enlighten me about that one, Firecrotch?”</p>
<p>“Met him when I was sixteen,” Ian explains. “Started fucking him, found out he’s Fiona’s ex-boyfriends dad, kept on fucking him. Carried on until I went manic the first time and then he ditched me.”</p>
<p>“Holy fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey says, astounded. “But – hold up – you were <em>sixteen</em>?” Ian winces.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” he says quietly. “But whatever. I’ve had worse experiences with older, married men.”</p>
<p>“Jesus fuckin’ Christ; you ever actually fucked anyone more age appropriate?” Ian laughs.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’ve gotten around,” he admits. “But the last guy I dated seriously ended up cheating on me, and I sort of gave up after that.”</p>
<p>“Rotten luck, huh?” Mickey passes the cigarette back to him.</p>
<p>“Could say that.”</p>
<p>Mickey takes a sip of his drink as he lets the silence settle around them; it’s not an uncomfortable silence, rather an inviting one, and Mickey finds himself <em>wanting</em> to talk to Ian about things he usually can’t find the words for.</p>
<p>“I’ve never dated seriously,” he says, fixing his gaze on the amber liquid in his glass. “Always kept it to casual hook-ups, meaningless fucks. It was easier that way, before I came out, but even since then I’ve not really wanted to.” If Ian asks him why, he’ll have to lie, because there’s no fucking way he’s going to admit to never having dated anyone because he always found himself looking for Ian. He’s always found that be rather pathetic, really, as it’s not like he and Ian have any kind of history.</p>
<p>To his relief, Ian doesn’t ask him why; instead, he nods as though Mickey’s inability to commit is the most normal thing in the world.</p>
<p>“Nothing wrong with that,” he says. “Do what you gotta do, and all that shit.” Mickey hums in agreement, and then Ian says, “I wanted to fuck you, you know, back when I was around Mandy all the time.” Mickey’s head snaps up in shock, eyes locking with Ian’s and tension thickens around them. Mickey’s mouth goes dry, and he tightens his fingers around his glass to stop them from shaking.</p>
<p>“I wanted–” he tries, “I wanted – fuck – I wanted you to.” His confession brings that same fucking smile to Ian’s face, and even though he feels like his heart is going to fall out of his ass, he manages to smile shyly back.</p>
<p>“Do you still want it?” Ian asks softly, and Mickey’s stomach flips as he becomes aware of the sudden ill-fit of his jeans.</p>
<p><em>This motherfucker</em>.</p>
<p>Mickey can only nod slightly, and Ian’s smile widens.</p>
<p>“But,” Mickey says, though it pains him, “we can’t, not while you work for me.” Ian’s brow furrows in confusion.</p>
<p>“Right,” he says.</p>
<p>“The minute I cross that fuckin’ line with you, Gallagher,” Mickey continues, “I’m not letting anyone else near you.”</p>
<p>Mickey can almost hear the pieces click into place in Ian’s mind as understanding flashes across his face, as he hears what Mickey didn’t want to say earlier, that <em>he was always looking for Ian</em>.</p>
<p>“I’m cool with that. I wouldn’t want anyone else near you either.” Ian’s casual admittance to being on the same page doesn’t immediately register with Mickey, but when it does he can only stare at him. Ian looks back at him, an amused smile on his lips. “We’ve both been holding onto this for years, Mick. It was never going to be a meaningless fuck.”</p>
<p>Mickey exhales a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as relief flows through him.</p>
<p>“So, what are we gunna do?” He asks, internally begging Ian to quit on the spot. Ian raises an eyebrow, sipping his beer.</p>
<p>“I got a long-term plan in place,” he replies. “I just need a couple more weeks here while I get the ball rolling.” Mickey lets out a low whistle.</p>
<p>“You gunna be able to keep it in your pants that long?" He teases, making a show of letting his eyes wander south of Ian's face and back up again. Ian swallows.

</p><p>"Will you?" He retorts, eyes narrowed playfully. Mickey snorts.</p>
<p>"Touché. So, you wanna tell me about this plan?” Mickey asks, gesturing to the seats around his desk. Instead of sitting in his usual chair, he takes the other guest chair beside Ian, lighting up another cigarette while Ian stubs out the old one.</p>
<p>“Been studying to take my GED,” Ian begins. “Lip’s helping me, then I’m going to start an EMT training course at Malcolm X.” Mickey can’t help but grin.</p>
<p>“Going all professional on us, eh Gallagher?” Ian laughs.</p>
<p>“Something like that,” he concedes. “I’m not too hopeful about it yet, what with my bipolar and shit, but we’ll see.”</p>
<p>They sit there for hours, talking in a way that Mickey didn’t know he could, until they both realise that the sun is coming up and Ian needs to get home to take his meds. Mickey tells him to take the next night off, get some proper rest, and Ian doesn’t argue like he usually would.</p>
<p>They stay close together while Ian collects his things and Mickey locks up, sharing small smiles and soon they’re outside in the alley and the morning breeze tickles their faces while Mickey offers Ian another cigarette. Ian takes one but doesn’t light it, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully, and Mickey’s nerves are shot to shit because Ian clearly wants to say something that Mickey likely isn’t prepared for.</p>
<p>“Can I kiss you?” He asks tentatively, and no, Mickey was most definitely <em>not</em> prepared for that but that doesn’t mean he’s against it. He nods and Ian smiles and Mickey finds himself pressed against the wall and the kiss is soft at first, until it isn’t, and they both get lost in it until they break apart, breathless, eyes closed as they lean against each other and then Ian’s pulling away with a smirk and a promise to see him later.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I debated ending it here but I'm having too much fun with this little AU &amp; I've got a vague idea for at least one more chapter, so watch this space!</p>
<p>I may have borrowed a couple of Mickey's lines from the show because they fit my narrative, so if you recognise anything, then that's probably why!</p>
<p>Thank you all for the continuous love, &amp; I hope you are enjoying this fic!</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Epilogue.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Six Months Later</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Ian ambles down the street towards The Alibi, dead on his feet after a busy 12-hour shift. He became a fully qualified EMT three months ago – having fought tooth and nail to be given a chance despite his bipolar – and it’s exhausting in a way he couldn’t be prepared for, but he loves it. He loves being able to do a job that helps people, he loves having colleagues who share that passion.</p><p>It’s early evening and still light out as he rounds the corner. He knows he should be heading home to get some rest, but his shift ended too late to get back in time to see Mickey, so he’s decided to take a detour.</p><p>True to his word that night six months ago, Ian worked for Mickey for two more weeks before quitting. It was a struggle for both of them to keep from crossing that line, limiting themselves only to kissing, but it didn’t stop them from spending time together. They talked for hours in Mickey’s office, would text or call whenever they had a spare minute, and it became clear very early on that they hated being apart from each other.</p><p>He quit the day he took his GED; he got his test results, enrolled in the EMT course at Malcom X, and marched down to The Alibi. He knew Mickey would be there because he’d sent him a text telling him just that. Ian let himself in through the back door, bounded up the stairs and into Mickey’s office. The girls weren’t in yet and Mickey wasn’t expecting anyone, so Ian’s sudden appearance startled him.</p><p>“The fuck, Gallagher?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “You okay?”</p><p>“I quit,” Ian announced triumphantly, grinning.</p><p>“Thank fuck,” Mickey said hoarsely, jumping up from his chair. In seconds he’d rounded the desk and had pulled Ian to him, kissing him hard, and soon their clothes were scattered haphazardly around them and well, if their first fuck happened on Mickey’s desk, then that’s their business. It certainly isn’t the only time it happened there.</p><p>They’ve been together ever since. Ian spends more time at the Milkovich house than he does at the Gallagher’s, to Mandy’s delight as well as Mickey’s, and he’s happy.</p><p>He pushes open the door to The Alibi and the familiar buzz of the atmosphere settles over him. He walks through the space, waving at Kev and Vee behind the bar as he passes. He climbs the back stairs and meets Jacob, Mickey’s usual doorman, who greets him cheerfully over the top of a magazine about monster trucks.</p><p>Most of the girls are already working, as evidenced by the muffled sounds coming from their cubicles, but Ian bumps into Svetlana as she exits Mickey’s office.</p><p>“Hey, Svet,” he exclaims, grinning at her.</p><p>“Orange boy,” she says, smiling. He briefly remembers a time when he thought she never smiled; now he knows that she just saves her smile for those who earn them. She nods her head towards the office door. “He is cranky.” Ian laughs.</p><p>“Thanks for the heads up,” he says, entering the office and shutting the door behind him. Mickey looks up from his phone, a scowl on his face.</p><p>“The fuck are you doing here?” he asks, though there’s no bite in his words. “Thought you were headed home?” Ian rounds the desk, leaning down to kiss Mickey softly.</p><p>“You want me to leave?” He teases, his face hovering over Mickey’s for a moment before he goes to stand up again, but Mickey’s fingers wrap around the collar of his EMT jacket and pull him in for another kiss.</p><p>“Didn’t said that,” Mickey murmurs against his mouth. Ian chuckles, pulling away. He does stand up this time but doesn’t go far, leaning against Mickey’s desk. “Save any lives today, tough guy?” Mickey asks as he lights a cigarette and takes a drag from it. Ian shrugs.</p><p>“Pretty non-stop today,” he says, taking the cigarette from Mickey’s fingers when it’s offered to him. “Lots of little things, nothing too life-threatening.”</p><p>They stay like that for as long as it takes to share that cigarette and one more after it, and then Ian can’t stifle a yawn and Mickey tells him to fuck off home.</p><p>“You got my permission to wake me up when you get home,” Ian says, smirking. Mickey snorts, flipping him off.</p><p>“Whatever,” he retorts, but he smiles anyway. “Get the fuck outta here, Gallagher.”</p><p>“See you later, Milkovich.” With a wink and a quiet laugh, Ian leaves.</p><p>*</p><p>On his way home, he pulls out his phone to a see string of messages in the Gallagher family group chat, unimportant but he reads them anyway, and an email from his therapist, reminding him of their appointment tomorrow.</p><p>It’s a recent development in his life, a step he’d taken when he was halfway through his EMT training. After a lengthy late-night conversation with Lip, wherein Lip had suggested attending therapy as a way of helping Ian manage the transition into such a high-stress job, Ian had reluctantly taken his advice and started seeing a therapist twice a month.</p><p>In a move that surprised everyone, he decided to keep going after securing himself a job, and everyone supported it. Mickey didn’t have much to say about it when Ian told him other than a muttered “good” followed by a long kiss, but just as Ian was on the cusp of sleep that night, Mickey whispered into the darkness of their bedroom,</p><p>
  <em>“I’m proud of you.”</em>
</p><p>The memory drifts across Ian’s mind now as he wanders home, bringing a fond smile to his lips as he recalls what followed.</p><p>Mickey’s whisper roused Ian and he reached for Mickey, and they got lost in each other for a while until they fell back against the sheets, breathing hard, and that night was the first time that Ian told Mickey he loved him. After a long silence and Ian’s sincere reassurance that he didn’t have to, Mickey said it back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A note for this final instalment: I know it's half the length of the previous chapters, but when I was writing it just felt right to leave it here, as I felt that going any further wouldn't add any substance to the story. It's why I've classed it as an epilogue as opposed to a full chapter. </p><p>But now that it's finished I just want to say thank you all for the love on this! It's been such fun to write &amp; I hope it's been as much fun for you all to read. I've got some ideas down for future works, mostly drabbles at the moment, so watch this space.</p><p>Much love!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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